


Steady Hands Take the Wheel

by chibistarlyte



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drabble, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:18:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4452776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibistarlyte/pseuds/chibistarlyte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of Greil's death, Ike has a moment of breakdown and Soren helps him through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steady Hands Take the Wheel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Measured](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/gifts).



> This has been sitting in my unfinished fanfiction binder for years, so it's about damn time I finished it. This was originally inspired by the song Stop and Stare by OneRepublic, which is also where the title comes from. 
> 
> I dedicate this fic to Measured. Thank you so much for all your kindness, advice, and support in helping me through some tough times recently. This fic isn't near enough repayment for that, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
> 
> Not beta'd.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was a rainy day, as it should have been, considering the occasion. Large, heavy raindrops pelted the windshield relentlessly—the wipers were having a hard time keeping up with the constant onslaught of water. Ike’s knuckles were completely white from his death grip on the steering wheel. Hardened blue eyes watched the world pass by, keeping close attention on the flooded street illuminated by old and flickering headlights.

Soren sat in the passenger seat, doing nothing to alleviate the somber silence hanging between the two. But really, what could he do? He sank deeper into the smelly and stained seat, wishing for it to swallow him whole. It hadn’t been an easy day for anyone. Greil’s funeral came and went, leaving everyone feeling hollow by the end of it. Even Soren, who was usually successful in divorcing himself from his emotions, felt an overwhelming amount of grief at the loss of his surrogate father. Even so, it wasn’t enough to leave him as emotionally crippled as some of the others in their motley crew of a family.

And Ike stayed steadfast and strong through the tragedy, never once falling apart. Soren respected that, but at the same time, he was worried for his friend.

The old pick-up started to slow, eventually coming to a full stop on the shoulder of the main road. Red eyes glanced curiously at the blue-haired driver. Ike’s hands, still glued to the steering wheel, began to shake uncontrollably. He fought so hard to keep a slight quiver from rattling his tightly-pressed lips. He wrenched his eyes shut to dam up the tears he’d refused to shed over the past week, praying to Ashera they wouldn’t overflow.

“Ike…?” Soren uttered with trepidation and thinly veiled concern. He watched his best friend warily, unsure of what was happening.

Just that small whisper of his name was enough to drive Ike to the breaking point. He allowed his forehead to smack into the steering wheel he was still holding onto. There was no whining or wailing, just choked gasps and sniffles as he wept. Everything that he’d been feeling, that he’d been holding in, that he’d been trying to ignore, flowed freely now in the form of gross and ugly sobs. He felt so utterly alone.

Soren lifted a tentative hand, reaching out for Ike. He had no idea what he was reaching out to do--somehow, the thought of ruffling Ike's hair or giving him a comforting but impersonal shoulder pat just didn't sit right with him. Instead, he laid his pale hand over one of Ike's, squeezing gently, telling Ike without words that he was right there.

The small act of solidarity sent Ike further into his grief. Heaving a sob, Ike abandoned the steering wheel entirely and gravitated towards his best friend. He leaned over the center console, not even caring about the loose change he knocked from the old thermos in the cup holder. He paid no mind to the months-old soda stains mucking up his black slacks, or to the cracks that echoed over the sounds of the pouring rain outside as he put too much weight on the CD holder in the middle. All he could do was curl into Soren, clinging to the smaller man's jacket and sobbing salty stains into his black collared shirt.

At a loss of what to do, Soren wrapped his arms around Ike's beefy frame as best as he could and held him, rubbing circles up and down his back and resting his chin atop a nest of blue hair. Ike trembled in his arms.

"He's gone, Soren," Ike choked out in a hoarse whisper. "He's gone."

"I know," Soren said, not knowing what else he could say. Muttering words of comfort and reassurance would do nothing to change the fact Greil was dead. So Soren did what he did best--let Ike work through his emotions while he offered silent support. He reached over and turned the truck off, leaving the keys dangling in the ignition and the wiper blades almost vertical on the windshield.

They stayed like that for almost an hour, with the rain pouring down outside, so hard that Soren could barely see through the windows. Just like Ike could barely see through his tears.

When Ike's sobs had quieted down to mere hiccups that occasionally punctuated the silence, he eased some of his weight off of Soren and sniffed back whatever was left of his tears. He felt dried up, like a desert devoid of any life. Soren still held on to him, though, and Ike briefly felt lips against his forehead. It was almost enough for him to start crying again, but he had no more tears left to shed.

"I'm sorry, Soren," Ike said in a nasally voice, his sinuses congested from his crying.

"What for?" Soren said. Ike could feel his lips moving against his skin, his breaths ruffling his blue hair.

Ike sucked in a deep, shuddering breath and collapsed against Soren once more. "For...this." He didn't know what to call it. Breakdown? Moment of weakness?

Soren let out a quiet scoff, his hold on Ike tightening infinitesimally. "Don't be stupid," he muttered into Ike's hair. "Your father just died. You have every right to grieve over your loss.”

“You seem to be holding up all right,” Ike said, not as an attack on Soren’s supposed coldheartedness, just as a simple observation.

Idly combing his fingers through Ike’s hair, Soren watched the downpour outside through the driver’s side window. He narrowed his eyes a bit, inhaling through his nostrils before saying, “We all handle grief differently.”

Ike nodded in silent agreement to Soren’s statement, staying curled against his best friend. He didn’t think he had the will or the energy to move away, to lose this closeness and comfort, to let this moment pass. Not yet.

“I can drive us home,” Soren offered at length, “if you’d rather not.”

The prospect of going home frightened Ike. What would they do when they got there? Everyone else would probably want some alone time, to deal with this tragedy in their own ways, as Soren had said. Ike didn’t want to think about going home and not seeing his father there, to have to walk past his empty bedroom on the way to his own right down the hall. But, they couldn’t just sit in the truck on the side of the road all night, either. They had to go home sometime. It was pointless to delay the inevitable.

“Yeah...okay,” he agreed, reluctantly pulling himself from the safety of Soren’s arms.

The two swapped spots, Soren pulling the driver’s seat forward so he could reach the pedals, Ike leaning the passenger seat back so he could somewhat lie down and steel himself to face the rest of his family. Soren turned the keys and the truck sputtered to life, rumbling a bit in its old age. Ike was glad for the familiarity of his truck. It was something he needed right now.

They pulled onto the empty road, headlights still flickering a bit as they illuminated the pavement ahead. The rain was letting up a bit, though the wipers still worked double time to keep the windshield clear enough to see the road. Soren was silent as he drove, hands steady on the steering wheel, and Ike wanted to reach up and take one of Soren’s hands into his own, just to have something to ground him. Something to hold onto.

When he finally did reach for Soren’s hand, he held it for dear life, not intending to let it go anytime soon. And Soren gripped Ike’s hand just as tightly, though he never said another word or took his eyes off the road.

Ike knew that it would take some time to work through the pain of his father’s passing, but as long as he had Soren by his side, he knew he could make it through.


End file.
